


Home

by jagnikjen



Series: The Chronicles of Blake Moran [10]
Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Blake has a hot hockey boyfriend, Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagnikjen/pseuds/jagnikjen
Summary: Blake has the flu. Oliver takes care of him.





	Home

Blake wakens by degrees, but doesn’t move. Everything hurts, from his hair to his toenails. He needs to eat and drink something, probably needs a shower, but, goodness, he isn’t looking forward to moving.

And then it hits him… 

The smell of chicken noodle soup and Oliver’s cologne.

And, oh God, Oliver was supposed to come visit over the All-Star Game break. _Has_ come to visit, hence the smells. Blake blinks open his eyes and peers around his room. The drapes are pulled back and the blinds are canted to let in a little light. A glass of Gatorade—the orange kind, bless him—and a medicine cup of pills sit on the bedside table along with a small bell.

Blake rolls to his side, grimacing at the aches making themselves known, and rings the bell.

A moment later, the gorgeous creature Blake calls his boyfriend appears in the doorway. All six-foot-two, two-hundred-plus pounds of beautiful manhood—wearing a medical face mask.

Blake doesn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.

“Hey, kultsi, how’re you feeling?” Oliver pads across the room and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs a hand up and down Blake’s arm and holds Blake’s hand.

“What’s with the mask?”

“I can’t afford to catch the flu, Blake,” Oliver chides, but Blake can see him smiling behind the pale blue paper cloth.

“No. I know. I’m just sorry I can’t kiss you. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since you left, but it’s been a couple of weeks. I had high hopes for our conjugal visit.”

Oliver waggles his eyebrows. “We can do things that don’t involve mouths.”

Blake frowns.

“Okay, things that don’t involve mouth touching mouth. Let’s get you feeling better first, though, huh? I made soup. The good canned kind. You want some?”

Blake smiles and nods. “I do, but I want to shower first. I feel gucky.”

“Okay, you go. I’ll change the sheets and then come join you.”

“Yeah?”

Oliver grins. “Yeah.”

For all of his eagerness for both a shower and being close and naked with Oliver, Blake’s body is still in the midst of the flu as it so rudely reminds him when he gets out of bed. His head pounds and his whole body just hurts. He plops back to the bed and takes the pills Oliver had thoughtfully set out.

Oliver begins stripping the bed, effectively forcing Blake into movement again, slow though it is, toward the bathroom. Blake brushes his teeth while the shower runs to heat up and then Blake is stripping and stepping underneath the water. He groans in painful delight as the water pelts him and washes away the grunge of being in bed for the last two days.

Thank goodness for Oliver showing up because Blake really doesn’t know if he’d have the wherewithal to change the sheets. He’d have dived back into infested sheets or just rolled up in a clean blanket like a burrito if left to his own devices.

A few minutes later, Oliver steps behind him, slides his arms around Blake’s waist, and presses a kiss to Blake’s neck. “Hi.”

A shiver runs down Blake’s spine. He covers Oliver’s arms with his own and drops his head onto Oliver’s shoulder. “Hi yourself. I’m so glad to see you.”

Oliver latches onto the pulse point beneath Blake’s left ear and sucks a little.

Blake’s stomach loops in delight and, surprisingly, his dick twitches in interest.

“I glad to see you too,” Oliver says. “Want me to wash your hair?”

“I’d rather you wash the rest of me.”

“ _Heh…_ How about I start at the top and work my way down and see how far I get?”

The thought of Oliver’s hands on him as well as the ultimate outcome rouses Blake’s libido further. “Yes. Okay. Please.”

Oliver’s fingers scritching against Blake’s scalp raises goosebumps and gets his heart rate up. Once he’s done with Blake’s hair, Oliver moves out from behind Blake to in front of him and finds the body wash. He sets to work with his hands, lathering Blake’s shoulder and chest, kneading his muscles, tweaking his nipples.

Blake’s breathing hard with want now. His skin tingles. Oliver’s hands feel so good and he doesn’t want to stop, but his body’s starting to feel the achy heaviness that come with having the flu. He lets the shower wall take his weight.

Oliver works his way down Blake’s sides and abs, rubbing and caressing with the lather. Blake lifts his butt to accommodate the slide of Oliver’s hands along his waist and around to his backside; Oliver squeezes and separates his cheeks a couple of times. Blake’s heavy breathing becomes panting, but his energy is fading. Not that he cares, except that he might not be able to stay upright for much longer. “Oliver…”

Oliver seems to get it and drops to his knees. He takes Blake’s balls in one hand and his dick in his mouth, and it’s all over rather quickly. Although Blake is no stranger to masturbation, he’s been sick for a week and he hasn’t seen Oliver in two. His body feels even heavier than before, with a combination of satiation and lethargy, and Oliver seems to understand that too.

He turns off the water and with tender care helps Blake from the shower and dries him off. The bed is turned down, looking crisp and fresh with sheets and a duvet that Blake’s never seen before. He raises an eyebrow at Oliver.

“I wasn’t sure how many sets of sheets you might have gone through or how much laundry you might have gotten done, so I brought brand new.”

Blake collapses into the cool bed that smells of laundry soap and dryer sheets and sighs in delighted bliss. “I love you so much.”

Plush lips press against his forehead. “I love you too. Sleep or eat?”

“Oh, God…I should eat, but I just…” His lids are heavy and the cocoon of bedding heavenly. The pull of sleep takes him.

~*~*~

Blake wakens by degrees, but doesn’t move. He’s surrounded by warmth and a deliciously solid body. So not a fever dream. He smiles into his pillow. Oliver’s actually here. Not hundreds of miles away in Dallas. And Blake couldn’t be more grateful.

“Hey, sleepy head,” says Oliver, pressing a kiss to Blake’s nape. “How are you feeling?”

His throat still hurts and his body aches, but not to the degree of earlier. “Better, thanks. “I’m sorry your visit has to contaminated by sickness. I tried to resist, but there were just too many people spreading their germs around.”

“It’s fine, Blake. It’s not often I get to take care of you. I’m glad I could be here. I’m glad to be home.”

“Home?” Blake asks. Oliver’s D.C. townhouse is on the market, and he’s staying with a teammate in Dallas.

“Home is wherever and whenever I’m with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a request from a guest reader...not sure this exactly what you had in mind, but here you go.


End file.
